


With(out) You (Heartbreak Hotel)

by ParallelSkies



Series: Even If It's a Different Space [5]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cheating, Crossposted on AFF, Emotional Roller Coaster, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Divorce, Smut, The writer is trash, This will probably hurt you more than it hurts me, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, bottom!Yuta, top!Taeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 16:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11063025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParallelSkies/pseuds/ParallelSkies
Summary: Taeyong and Yuta are endlessly returning to the same thing.





	With(out) You (Heartbreak Hotel)

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how I said I wanted to write an angsty fic with divorced!YuTae? Welp, here it is.  
> I purposely made some aspects ambiguous. Feel free to interpret the story as you will~

"Please, don't make me beg anymore. _Please_..." Yuta's needy sobs resonate throughout the luxurious hotel room as his oversensitive body is pounded further into the soft mattress. Everything _burns_ ー from his blindfolded, tearing eyes and raw lips to his bruised hips and abused hole, the Japanese man feels wrecked with a passion. "I can't keepー"

A firm kiss silences his whines, and possessive fingers leave the curve of his waist to tweak a sore nipple. They're light, practiced, dominating motions meant to discipline the younger, to remind him of his self-imposed, sinful reality. "Do you _really_ want me to stop, though?" his lover pants against his parted lips. 

" _Taeyong_ , I just..." The former model's subdued whisper melts into a shaky, pleasured sigh as the businessman gently plants reverent kisses over his cheeks and jaw. The fingers resting on his chest trail upwards, and soon a light pressure is placed on Yuta's delicate neck. These motions are comforting, grounding, a sharp contrast from the hips still furiously banging against his. 

"Beg me more, _Yuta_. Beg me to let you go, if that's what you really want," the Korean man practically sings into the younger's ear, biting down dangerously close to the other man's earrings. His fingers leave his ex-husband's neck momentarily to roughly undo the tear-stained blindfold. Then they devilishly return to their snug position around that defenseless neck— not squeezing it to inflict pain, but instead just holding it to bring comfort.

Yuta gasps in mild relief as the binding is removed, but all his flickering, misty eyes make out is _gray_. The room's so dark. The white ceiling above looks gray. The locks of Taeyong's hair he can make out in his peripheral vision look unusually gray in the darkness instead of the brilliant silver they're supposed to be, as well.

However, all he feels is _red_. The warmth of Taeyong's body hovering over his, the hot breath near his ear, the burning sting in his ass, the boiling of blood in his veins as his heart beats uncontrollably to the point of near _implosion_ ー it's a lot to take in, and after so many sensual rounds that night, it finally triggers a fever in him.

" _Please_... let me..." the Japanese man stutters unsurely. He's shivering now; the heat of the moment gives way to cold clarity. He's completely cognizant of everything that's going on; he hasn't had a single alcoholic beverage that night, but a part of him's regretful, because now he can't blame intoxication for his _prurient behavior_.

What they're doing together is wrongー _so, so wrong, and shameful, and despicable_ ー but not even the icy torrents of wretchedness are enough to make him stop burning for Taeyong.

For his ex-husband turned illicit lover.

For his _**guilty pleasure**_.

"Please let you _what_? You're rather poor with your words for a charity spokesperson." With a mock affectionate nuzzle, the elder pulls out. His companion winces pathetically at the loss, and Taeyong's shimmering gaze darkens at the sexy, _gratifying_ sight. He leans back to appraise his thoroughly ravished ex-husband, patiently waiting like the gentleman he's known to be for the other man to speak.

He knows he won't have to wait long, anyway, given the _undeniable effect_ he has on him.

Yuta gulps under the intense scrutiny but collects his long-absent bearings. _"Won't you please me, Taeyong? I want to finish with you,"_ he eventually murmurs, peering up at his ex-husband with a beseeching, somewhat defeated look in his eyes. 

"Took you long enough." The Korean man smirks a little and lowers himself to steal one more forceful kiss before flipping his lover over and pushing back in to continue his beastly claiming. 

"Stop leaving so many marks..." Yuta complains half-heartedly into the pillows as he feels his ex-husband enthusiastically gnaw at the already marked-up, colorful canvas of his back. His grumbles soon turn into _wails_ as the other man suddenly starts to feed three relatively dry fingers into his already full, hurting hole with the intent to _punish_. _"No!"_ the Japanese man cries loudly in distress. His voice cracks unflatteringly when he feels the familiar, _insanity-inducing_ sensation of a ring carefully but teasingly skimming against his overstimulated, clenching inner walls. His breath quickens to a frantic pace, body tensing as it is left with no choice but to accommodate even more of its owner's ardent, dominant lover in its hot, wet confines. "It's too much. I'm _full_ already..."

"I know your body better than you do, Yuta— sweet spots, limitations, and all. I know you can handle _anything_ and _everything_ I give you, and besides, I could _never_ bring myself to tear up your pretty little hole beyond repair. Don't you trust me?" Taeyong coos pleasantly against damp, kiss-seared flesh. "And why are you so bothered about me branding you? It's not like you have a boyfriend waiting for you at home for the next few weeks, anyway." The man beneath him noticeably stiffens at the cruel jab, and he quickly lays a soothing, apologetic kiss on each of the younger's shoulder blades in response. "That was uncalled for, sorry," he mutters sincerely. "Look at you, though. You're so _lovely_ like this, you know. Such a _good boy_ for your hyung..."

The contrast of the _indecent language_ with the _consoling gesture_ combined with the _vicious fucking_ throws Yuta over the edge. With a piercing, broken scream of his guilty pleasure's name, the Japanese man loses himself completely to the wicked sensations deliciously wracking his body. As his last orgasm of the night rips through him, the submissive sweetheart exhaustedly flops against the soiled sheets, keening softly as he impatiently waits for his ex-husband to finish in him. _"Taeyong,"_ he whimpers repeatedly in wanton _need_ , _"please, please, please—"_

"You don't have to beg anymore. You know I'll always give you _everything_." With an utterly sated, _euphoric_ groan, Yuta's name spills reverently from Taeyong's lips as soon as he experiences his own earth-shattering orgasm. He sighs quietly when he eventually withdraws his member and fingers from the other man's ruined entrance; he then runs his filthy fingers tenderly over his lover's trembling form. "You okay?" he asks in a hushed voice, not unkindly. "You're with me, right?"

"I'm with you, and I'll be okay... I'm aching a bit down there, but that's to be expected," the former model mumbles into fluffy pillows, trying to keep his overwhelming emotions in check as the businessman's hand pauses at the base of his spine. "You don't have to do this, you know— _worry_ about me, I mean. I trust you to not damage me _too_ badly."

"I'll always worry about you no matter what. You'd be surprised how much I care about your well-being." Ever the worrywart, Taeyong parts the other man's cheeks to examine his gaping, used hole. Yuta squeaks and quickly tries to close his legs to hide his embarrassing vulnerability, but the elder just clicks his tongue and keeps him spread with his strong grip. "I'll call room service. I think you're going to be needing some pain killers," the Korean man comments thoughtfully, thumbing the sticky, delicate rosebud until his companion unhappily pleads for mercy.

" _Really?_ Don't touch me there right now. It's _dirty_..." the Japanese man gripes weakly, and the other man ceases the action at the reprimand. But out of nowhere, a lewd parting kiss is pressed against the reddened pucker between his legs; Yuta's drooping eyes fly open in alarm as he feels a shameless mouth briefly suck _hard_ at his dripping entrance and quivers, the overstimulation leaving him absolutely _flustered_. "You— you're so _annoying_ —" 

"Why so bashful?" the elder sniggers, licking his lips as he savors the sinful flavor. The blushing beauty lifts his head from a pillow to shoot a lazy, scathing glare at his departing ex-husband's back, yet the other man, long used to being on the receiving end of his lover's displeased looks, simply disregards him and continues his unbothered stride towards the phone.

"You're the _worst_ ," the younger snaps moodily. 

"How're you still so _prissy_ after so much sex? Maybe I need to get some food in you," Taeyong muses aloud comically.

"I'm _not_ hungryー" his ex-husband protests, frowning a bit petulantly when the Korean man dismissively waves a hand in his direction.

"You've never been a good liar," the unimpressed man fires back effortlessly. He turns away when someone finally answers the phone. "Hello," he greets in a professional, smooth voice, "this is Lee Taeyong in the Paradise Room. I'd like to place an order for..."

The other man tunes out the rest of the conversation as he struggles out of the bed. He needs some space after being pent up in a room with his illicit lover all night, and some fresh air out on the balcony would really do him some good right now. With that thought in mind, he grabs his phone from the bedside table, wraps a sheet around himself, and unsteadily makes his way outside, ignoring the eyes boring into his back.

Once he's alone, he unsilences his phone and checks his notifications. Something _ugly_ twists inside of the Japanese man when an unread text message catches his eye. Daring to open it, Yuta feels an unpleasant _chill_ course through him when he sees a loving message with a cute selca attached.

_From his current, legitimate lover._

**To: Yuta-chan <3**  
**From: J.Sol <3**  
**[07:01 PM] Hi, baby. Los Angeles is a really beautiful city, and I'm so thankful that I got to come here for work. I wish you could've come with me. I miss you a lot...**  
**But don't miss me too much, okay? I don't want you to be sad. What've you been up to lately? I'm sorry if these long messages are a bit weird. You know I don't usually text like this, but I just have so much I want to share with you...**

The image of Hansol endearingly flashing a peace sign in front of some massive, prestigious dance studio _pains_ Yuta greatly and leaves him lost for words. He puts the phone down without replying and buries his face in his hands.

 

 

For a moment, the dark-haired darling considers throwing himself off the pretentious hotel balcony because he's _trash, utter fucking trash_ that doesn't deserve anything good in this world. He doesn't deserve Hansol. Hansol's so patient, doting, sincere, ambitious... He deserves so much _more_ than someone as _salaciously unfaithful_ and _trapped in the past_ as the former model. The elder shouldn't idolize him and adore him as much as he does. Yuta's a _mess_ of a person; he's covetous and selfish and insecure, and he wants everything even when he knows he cannot have it all because he can't reign in his damn desires, plus he's too afraid of facing crippling loneliness all over again.

The sliding door opens and shuts with a faint click, but the Japanese man defiantly keeps his face hidden. "Hey, chin up." Taeyong's hand strokes through his black hair just the way he likes it. It feels nice. _So heartbreakingly nice_. He wishes he could hate it, but he's weak. _So terribly weak_.

"Why are we like this, Taeyong?" Yuta fragilely intones. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." The hand leaves his hair, and the younger finds himself lifting his head after it, seeking solace. 

He watches through wet eyes as his fully-dressed lover puts down a tray carrying painkillers, assorted dishes, and drinks on the low table between them. "I assumed you wanted your favorites," his ex-husband expresses nonchalantly, motioning to a beautifully composed bento box and slice of green tea cake. "Now eat up. The painkillers come after." The Korean man proceeds to grab his own bowl of hot noodle soup and seats himself across from his companion.

The other man refuses to touch any of the tray's contents. "Taeyong, I'm _serious_. I respect you a lot, and I _know_ we had an agreement, but don't you think we've gone... too far? I... I've been dating Hansol for a while now, and I know you're still with Jaehyun. They're _not_ just passing fancies anymore. Theyー"

"Perhaps I'll stop wanting and needing you the day you stop wanting and needing me." Yuta's posture becomes rigid; he feels like he's going to _hyperventilate_ , and he stands, wanting to run away from the cause of his anxiety.

_Seriously?_

_When will he ever stop wanting and needing Taeyong?_

_He can't imagine such a thing, not in this reality, at least._

_Maybe he'll never stop, and the fleeting, teasing thought **frightens** him immensely._

Sensing his ex-husband's jumpiness, the businessman raises his hand in warning. "Don't run away. You think _I_ sleep okay at night, knowing that I'm unable to fully commit to the _person I'm actually with_ because of this _unexplainable hold_ we have over each other?"

The Japanese man's rendered as frozen as a statue, and Taeyong smiles bitterly. "You know, we were together for eight years— three years of dating, five years of marriage. We were _young_ and _stupid_ and so _sickeningly_ in love. We worked tons of odd jobs trying to make our way, and when we did... when we finally did find success in two very different, respectable fields, it was at the cost of our _relationship_ ー"

"I _don't_ need any recap! Don't act like I wasn't there, too!" the younger interjects harshly, limping over to loom over his ex-husband. "I _know_ that we got busy, that we barely ever saw each other anymore with the way our careers were taking off, that we fucking became _estranged_ and _divorced_. But how did things get to be this _fucked up_?!" 

The Korean man bristles angrily and moves his food out of the way. He stands up himself and grips his equally enraged lover around the waist when the other man starts to back away. "Don't raise your voice at me so disrespectfully. I may not be your husband anymore, but I'm still your hyung," he growls into his companion's ear. "And maybe you _do_ need some recap. We happened to see each other at the same function a year later, remember?" Taeyong laughs sardonically, a few tears starting to escape his own eyes. "And _you_... you politely greeted me with that _infernally gorgeous, bright smile_ ー"

"You _seduced_ me that night! You pulled me by the wrist and led me _away_ ー" Yuta counters nervously, shuddering as he feels his ex-husband's nimble hands slip under the sheet concealing his nudity.

"You didn't have to follow me, yet you _did_ ー you _chose_ to. I didn't force you into anything." The elder tucks his face into the crook of the Japanese man's neck and exhales. "And here we are, months after that function..."

"We should've never exchanged phone numbers. _Future business possibilities_ , my ass," Yuta ruefully muses, though he's actually unsure if the regret tinging his voice is truly genuine.

After all, the memory of a black-haired, regal Taeyong slipping a business card into his breast pocket and pocketing the brunet's own before dragging him off for some _catching up_ never fails to ignite something _insatiable_ inside of Yuta.

Their carnal indiscretions that night hadn't been fueled by _alcohol_. They had been fueled by _mutual want and need beyond their wildest imaginations_.

Yuta doesn't want to admit it, but... even after all these years, Taeyong's still his irreplaceable last first love who cares for and accepts him unconditionally. Taeyong's perpetual presence in his life is the truth that keeps him breathing. Taeyong's been a constant long before Hansol _ever_ came into his life. Taeyong was his first Korean tutor, his first best friend, his first love, his first time, his first _everything_. Taeyong's touches and warped adoration give him _energy, purpose, genuine fulfillment_...

And he knows deep down that his own existence drives his ex-husband _mad_ , as well.

"That function was only the beginning, though. Now let's not forget one especially significant night, when I presented you with an explicit choice for once. It might be blurry because you drank so much, but do you remember?" The Japanese man exhales shakily as he dismisses his strange thoughts to return to reality; he's uneasy as he remembers that night and the inappropriate proximity currently between them but doesn't attempt to shove his ex-husband's tense, imposing form away— he relishes the feeling of _closeness_ , of _possession_.

He cues that he remembers and is listening, and the elder continues with a humorless chuckle and tight chest, "We brought up our new relationships with Jaehyun and Hansol, as well as our arrangement. You said you wanted to stop, and I confessed that I didn't really want to. You could've disregarded my words and walked out that door without looking back, yet you ultimately chose to stay with me and continue _this_... You know, we promised to stop if our respective relationships ever became serious, yet here we are, still so wrapped up in _each other_. I wonder what that means..."

 _"Taeyong—"_ The former model mewls as the businessman cuts him off with a meaningful, somewhat frustrated kiss without warning. The taste of tears taints the usual bittersweetness, but they indulge in the contact anyway.

 _Heartache, where?_

_Regret, where?_

**_Need you..._ **

"We may not love each other _romantically_ ," Taeyong begins again after pulling away, pulling Yuta out of his increasingly insane thoughts with him, "but we love the way we make each other feel _so damn amazing_. I'm _horribly obsessed_ with you in every way; I'm _addicted_ , and if you weren't, too, you wouldn't be standing here right now, letting me touch you like _this_." 

_Loveless._

_Horrible._

_Tears._

_**Obsessed**._

_Addicted._

_Touch._

_Touch me._

_**Please.**_

"I... _love_ Hansol so, so much," the younger whispers despondently as his companion's hands expose him with ease at long last. The expensive sheet pools at their feet, completely forgotten as the Korean man's hands begin to dance across and brand his alluring, yielding figure. "I... promised..."

"And I... _love_ Jaehyun. He's wonderful," Taeyong declares as evenly as possible, leaning into his ex-husband's elegant hands when they opt to wipe at his tears with shocking but unparalleled gentleness, "but no one can compare to _you_ , not like _this_. You know, I'm scared I might crave _this_ for the rest of my life. I don't know what to do about that promise..."

"I hate to admit it, butー _hey_!" The Japanese man shrieks in surprise, both of his hands darting out to grab hold of the balcony railing to steady himself as his ex-husband shoves him. "Go to hell," he whimpers uncomfortably as the elder drapes himself over his back like a parasitic curtain. The silver-haired menace naughtily starts to play with his member and suck at his already mauled neck, causing him to squirm in awful delight.

"As if that'll save anyone. We're bound to see each other there and _endlessly return to the same thing_." Taeyong presses an amorous kiss against his lover's tempting pierced ear. The Korean man briefly notes that Yuta's wearing the onyx sapphire earrings he'd gifted him during their last anniversary as an official couple. He _always_ wears them whenever they share long, _intimate_ nights. The earrings make for a reassuring sight, because to Taeyong, they're a sign that he still has some _ownership_ over his darling ex-husband.

_There might be a day when Jaehyun leaves him, or a day when Hansol leaves Yuta, or both, but as long as they can still fall back on each other, the void can't devour them whole._

Up close, Taeyong is reminded of how divine Yuta's always looked with _a bit of black and blue_ marring his creamy skin. "Have you ever worn _those_ earrings around Hansol? Does he know what _they_ symbolize?" he suddenly inquires.

"You _know_ I only ever wear these around _you_ anymore," his lover returns curtly. "And what about that ruby ring _you're_ always wearing on nights like this?" His entire body flushes a pretty color as he remembers the feeling of the cold bandー his own last anniversary present for the elder, coincidentallyー erotically grazing his insides when getting fingered. "Does Jaehyun know about _it_ , what _it_ symbolizes?" he spits back.

Taeyong scowls an ugly scowl at Yuta's bold retort. As much as he admires the other's fierceness, he'd rather have his submission at the moment. "You're being a rather _bad boy_ tonight, Yuta," he seethes, tightly squeezing the younger's half-hard member until he's pleading for mercy. Then he lets go and pumps him lightly for a bit as if to apologize for the careless treatment. " _Anyway_ , Hansol and Jaehyun aren't here right now, tonight won't be our last fuck, and I can confidently say that neither of us are planning to say goodbye to this bad habit anytime soon. Now, enjoy _me_ enjoying _you_."

Closing his eyes as if under a spell, Yuta tilts his head and plunges into the blissful deep end once more as Taeyong's lips meet his in a fiery, depraved kiss. "You're such a _rotten, awful bastard_ ," Yuta feebly curses against Taeyong's parted lips.

"I wonder what that makes _you_ then, seeing as you're kind of _my bitch_ ," the Korean man purrs as he sinks into his obsession's body without warning, mesmerizing voice thick with emotion. "Feels _so good_ inside you..."

The younger's knuckles whiten as he grips the railing supporting him more urgently. He's struggling to hold onto his last shreds of sanity, struggling to keep his erratic heartbeat and all of its accompanying feelings in check. "This _can't_ be our forever..."

"It'll be _a cold day in hell_ when we decide to change, though." Feeling the other man's marvelous body convulse in his embrace, Taeyong shushes his vocal lover and adjusts his stance and hold.

If Yuta wants to fall, Taeyong will be there to catch him.

"We're _not_ going to be young and virile forever. Will you _finally leave me alone, or throw me away, or settle down_ when we reach that point?" It's a question the former model's been meaning to ask since day one of their new, volatile _relationship_. His haunted doe eyes are unseeing; they steadily drip crystalline tears into the abyss that seems to be waiting beneath this meaningless, soon-to-be defiled balcony.

The elder's hand moves to cover his companion's smaller one. With a bit of manipulation, their fingers are laced together. _"What do you think?"_ the businessman questions unreadably.

 

 

**To: J.Sol <3**  
**From: Yuta-chan <3**  
**[01:27 AM] I'm so sorry for the late response, babe. I was occupied with something. I'm so glad you're having a good time, and maybe I'll see LA someday, too. But I seriously miss you a lot, and I wish you could come home sooner!  
I know you told me not to miss you too much or be sad, but there's been so much on my mind... Maybe we can talk when you get back.**

"I... you, too, Jaehyun-ah. Talk to you later." Taeyong ends his call just as Yuta sends his text message. Their dark, wary eyes meet over the table laden with their now spoiled room service. "I'll order something fresh. You'd better not take those painkillers while I'm inside." The Korean man's somber tone leaves no room for argument.

Yuta hugs his knees closer to his chest. "Alright," the Japanese man defers, looking away to admire the stars. He's always loved them. Thankfully, it's a love that'll never change or bring him agony.

He instinctively holds his breath as he hears his ex-husband approach him with a short sound of disapproval. "Yes?" he asks coolly, eyes still fixed towards the sky.

"I actually changed my mind. Come inside with me." With that, the elder gathers up the tray and heads back inside their hotel room. He doesn't need to look back to know that Yuta is hobbling after him at a leisure pace.

"My stomach kind of hurts," the younger later admits, hugging a pillow close as he regards his lover with half-lidded eyes. "Order me something light, please?"

He's _beautiful, so ethereally beautiful_ sitting on that plush but filthy bed, hugging that worthless pillow close to him in a way that screams _innocence_ despite his nudity. For a fleeting second, Taeyong wants to go over there and devour the other's enticing red pout again _badly_ , but he merely nods his head in acknowledgment and walks briskly to the phone.

 

 

When their second dinner arrives, the wayward couple dig in properly, seated closely on a huge sofa. They converse civilly as they share their food, discussing Jaehyun, Hansol, work, the shows they've been following, and their agreement to check out and go their separate ways (until next time) by ten o'clock sharp in the morning.

Neither of them bring up anything concerning their convoluted relationship. After their _long, intense, postcoital heart-to-heart_ outside, there's nothing really left to discuss. 

Yuta doesn't protest when Taeyong pampers him for the rest of their time together. The elder bathes, massages, and dresses him with finesse before laying him down on a freshly made bed... as if he were something _precious_. The heartwrenching affection makes him nostalgic; it feels like they're who they used to be, if only temporarily.

Taeyong doesn't protest when Yuta reciprocates the pampering in his own way. The younger shares some uplifting stories and jokes, plays with his moonlight-colored hair, and pulls him close for kisses and cuddles that help him forget everything _negative_ and _lackluster_ in the world for a little while.

The soft sentimentality of this particular night is unprecedented. It's _different_ from every other shameful session they've had since starting their affair. It's truly _special_.

_But it wasn't meant to last, of course._

Following their usual routine, the two eventually fall asleep with their backs to each other and wake up as strangers the morning after. Then they wordlessly have breakfast together, get dressed together, help each other pack up, and exchange a good number of surprisingly chaste kisses.

They go downstairs together and thank the hotel staff but do not address each other at all as they return to their real lives.

Taeyong hastily jumps into his private car.

Yuta lethargically shuffles into a taxi.

They never were good at saying goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, you've made it to the end, huh? I wonder what Yuta and Taeyong talked about during their "long, intense, postcoital heart-to-heart" that I purposely didn't include, or if they're going to continue whatever they have going on. Maybe they chose to stop at the end, or maybe they didn't. Even I don't know, and I'm the one who wrote it... *headdesks* It's not often that I drop open-ish endings, but there's just so much YOLO involved with these one-night oneshots I come up with.  
> Poor YuTae, JaeYong, and YuSol. You can all imagine what happens, I guess. YuTae were officially together for eight years, but I never said how long JaeYong or YuSol were together. That's another blank for you to fill in... And don't forget the phone conversations!


End file.
